The Careers
by saturdaydress
Summary: Everyone knows the story of Katniss Everdeen; but what about Finnick Odair's tale? Told nine years prior of Katniss and Peeta the story of the Darling of the Capitol, and his experience in the Games. From the POV of a girl from District Two, and how her alliance with Finnick can change more than just her odds.
1. Chapter 1

The first thing to see was frost. Cold, heavy frost that piled over District's Two's grounds like a blanket. It had been like this for over a month, each day becoming colder than the last. Today was the coldest of them all.

Reaping Day was notorious for being the coldest day of the year. Everyone who gathered in the square created thick condensation in the air, either from being nervous or from being freezing, and that's exactly how the window I was gazing out of looked. Utterly clouded. Just like everyone's judgement.

The moment my name was picked, the civilians around me relaxed, but I was far more tuned in on the screams of my mother. She ran to me, or attempted to, but was stopped by the Peacekeepers. Her face was stained with tears and an agonizing expression. She had always supported The Hunger Games; District Two was the Capitol's favorite after all. We had built their weaponry and precious stone buildings; even had been loyal to them through the previous rebellions. We were favored by them, yet we still had to compete in the Games. I don't think my mother ever imagined this outcome.

She was peeled away from me by big men in white suits. The pain in my chest grew immensely stronger as I turned away from her direction and walked up to the stage. No matter what District you were from, whether it be a Career or District 12, your mortal doom lie in a The Hunger Games. The shock and agonizing pain you feel as you are picked, is something every tribute shares. And now I'm one of them.

My mother is my only family. Dear father died when I was a baby from pneumonia. Only child. Although I wasn't alone, for I had my mother. My best friend. All we had was each other, and we appreciated that every day. Until now. Now I was gone and she was left to defend for herself. She wasn't strong, nor was she weak. But she was unstable when I was in danger. I was usually there to pick her back up. It was only when I last hugged her goodbye that I realized I couldn't do it anymore.

Up on the stage, the people looked so much clearer. The world looked brighter somehow. Perhaps it was the snow, or just the air, or maybe my pure imagination, but I hated it. I hated the thought of killing someone, me dying, family members losing their children, all of it. I loathed it. My fists were clenching my satin skirt. I even knew the look only face showed remorse. I knew it was foolish to let my anger and sadness overcome me. The last thing I wanted to do was look weak.

The boy who was picked alongside me was someone of whom I did not know, and did not plan to know. He was going to die anyways. Both of us were.

In my holding room, I cried. It was possibly the only time I could ever afford to feel weak again, and thus, I decided to take it. My small amount of mascara my mother had forced onto my eyelashes that morning were know being diminished away by the salty tears that streamed down my face. I knew my mother would try to fix it, but even she wouldn't be able to heal the wounds that were caused today. The mascara was only a small price to pay.

My life was soon to be gone and I had let the Capitol take it away from me. I never asked for this. I never wanted this. But no one ever asks to be a Tribute, nor did they ask for The Hunger Games, and yet after 65 years we still have them. Another small price to pay.

The door to my room swung open and my mother entered immediately, running straight for me in a rushed silence. She sobbed into my shoulder, telling me that everything was going to be alright, and that even I had a fair chance of winning. I knew she was lying. She knew I was going to die.

Her last moments with me were those of complete silence. No more tears, or hugs; just silence. The Peacekeeper came into the room and told her that time was up. My heart clenched in my chest. This was it. My last moments with my mother. My best friend. She desperately looked over at me and smiled slightly.

"Make them pay," she whispered. And then she was gone. Taken away from me for good.

That was the last time I ever saw my mother. I didn't have any last words to her. Just a mascara-stained face and a cold expression. I wish she hadn't seen me that weak, but she had. And she was proud.

My need to survive was now peeled away from me, as life would have it. And as I looked out that frosted window on the train to the Capitol, I knew that I was alone. No allies. No hope. No humanity. My whole world was to be shattered in only a matter of weeks, and I had to bear through it. I had to win. Or at least I had to try.

Time was certainly up, indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

"The next two weeks will be the easiest part of this experience. For those of you who already know basic weapon training, it will be remotely easier. For those of you who don't... Well, I suggest you learn."

A murmur of whispers from the other tributes clouded my ears. I was told from a young age that the people in The Training Center wanted to either try and scare you, or just be brutally honest. Vienna was doing both.

She informed us of the diseases that most of us will die from, the plants we should and shouldn't eat, ways to kill people, how to find shelter, etc. Most of the tributes were threatened by this. I was not.

I knew how all of these weapons worked. My District was the one who built them, after all. I was aware of which weapons were useful and which ones were not. I knew how to use them, as well. The one good thing, I suppose, about coming from a Career District is that you know basic survival and weaponry skills. Other than that, there isn't much to learn. Except maybe how to apply sequins to expensive dresses, if you're from District One.

Being threatened by the other Tributes was something that I didn't plan on happening either. Most of them were around my age, fourteen, while five or six of them were fifteen or sixteen. I knew I wasn't supposed to, but I scouted for other allies. My mentor, Enobaria, made it clear that the only true way to survive was to fight on your own. I told her I didn't really have a problem with that, as I don't tend to play well with others. But one certain Tribute seemed to catch my eye right away.

He was well-known, of course, by everyone. I had heard of him before I even walked into The Training Center. He was famous. A true Capitol treasure. Finnick Odair.

He was a Career, like me, from District Four. I always seemed to take a liking to Four; the people in it and the location of it. Something was so earthy and natural about them. Nothing to hide. I secretly wished I was from there.

I wanted him as an ally, for some reason. I was drawn to him. His presence. He was gorgeous, smart, clever; or so I had heard. But I didn't want to seem to eager to grab him, as most of the Tributes had already done. He would give a warm smile but shake his head politely. Letting them down easy so he could kill them hard. I liked him already.

I was at the fire station when he walked up to me. I had never learned how to make a fire, or rather, had never seen the need to. He squatted down beside me, dangerously so I might add, and whispered in my ear.

"You know, it might help if you move your hands a little quicker."

I stopped my actions and elbowed him in the chest. He heaved and fell to the floor, a cocky grin still plastered onto his face. I stood up and loomed over him. He had been carrying a trident, I noted, his weapon of choice. Of course he had. District Four. Fishing. No doubt the Captiol had put that in his field of vision. It was one of the most valuable weapons to get, and I would bet money that it would be in the Games. I decided that if we didn't end up allies, I would steal it from him. Better to leave him bare than dead.

"Was that quick enough for you?" I asked. He flashed me a perfect smile.

"I suppose."

He stood up and brushed off his pants and shirt, doing so almost seductively. I couldn't decided whether this was a motion to try and get me on his side, or if it was just natural for him to act like this. Either way I couldn't keep my eyes off of him.

He picked up his trident and spun it in his hands. "Finnick Odair. I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting."

He was cocky. Too cocky. But somehow that drew me in more. I could tell he was intentionally being cocky, not just naturally acting like it. He was also clever, but so was I. I knew his act right down to a T. I had seen it in the Games times before: he acts desirable so the Tributes don't pay much attention to him. It isn't until later on, until it's too late, that they realize he's the one to kill. He had a fair chance at winning with that act. He was very clever.

"I don't believe we have," I said, kneeling down to start my fire again. I did as he suggested before and moved my hands faster. After about fifteen seconds, smoke started to rise from the log, and soon there was a spark of fire emerging. I let out a small laugh of joy. I glanced up at him and he gave me a wink. I guess he does know what he's doing after all.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" He asked as I stood up and scoured the building for a new station. I saw the knot station open, and decided to head there. I also knew that Finnick could help me, no doubt. Finishing nets were another specialty of his.

"Is it important?" I questioned as I walked.

He followed me. "If we're going to be allies it is."

My heart did a little leap of joy. He wants to be allies. This meant I had him on my side. What did I do to make him want that? All I've done is unsuccessfully and then successfully make fire, with his help. Why does he want me? "Allies? Who said anything about that?"

Once we reached the knot station, I got to work. Finnick had a smug grin on his face, and I knew that this was his place to be. I was practically leading a mouse to cheese.

"Well," he started as he picked up some rope,"I think we would make a great team. Careers are known to be a tight-knit group."

He worked his piece of rope into multiple knots, each one more intricate than the last. I watched his fingers move across the net quickly, so nimble and precise. It was like watching art being made. It was then that I got a clear look at him for the first time. He was gorgeous.

He looked like he was from Four, stamped with the trademark blonde hair and sea green eyes; but most civilians from Four have softer features. More natural. His were very defined and chiseled, much like the people from my District. Every muscle imaginable rippled across his body, mostly in his arms and hands. When he smiled, dimples imprinted on his cheeks, followed by a perfect set of white teeth. He was a pretty boy. Nothing flawed about him. Nothing that I could see, that is.

He even knew how to weave nets. The one he had just done was absolutely gorgeous; you could tell that each knot was tied as tight as it could, as well as made with expert hands. It was small, though could be decent to use for trapping a small animal like a fish or squirrel. He obviously knew what he was doing. I should probably learn to trust Finnick more. He knew how to capture things. Not just animals.

"That's beautiful," I breathed, gingerly touching the net he had woven.

"Isn't it? I could teach you how, if you want," he offered. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" He questioned, almost amusingly. "Don't trust me?"

"Something like that."

He taught me how to make one anyways, which was surprisingly easier than I thought. It was a lot like knitting, a skill I picked up from my mother. It's all about pattern and practice, which go along with order and organization. In out, in out, repeat, repeat, repeat. The same process over and over again. I loved it.

"Look at that," he said as I finished my net. "A beautiful net."

I smiled slightly and looked at it. It was quite beautiful. A net that I made all by myself was something to be proud of, and it was helpful as well. Finnick stood up.

He smiled and picked up his trident. "I'll see you soon, then."

He winked at me and sauntered away, leaving his net behind. I hesitated for a moment. I couldn't just let him get away from me; I needed him on my side. I didn't care whether he was to be trusted or not. If the Capitol likes Finnick that much, they'll make an effort to keep him alive until the end. If I'm with him the whole time, helping him stay alive, they might just do the same for me.

"Finnick," my voice called out. He turned around as if he was waiting for me to call his name. Definitely cocky.

"Caldera," I said.

There was a pause. A moment of utter confusion. He cocked his head to the side. "What was that?"

I laughed slightly. "My name. Caldera."

His eyes lit up. Now he had my trust, just like I had wanted. Something else in me wanted Finnick to do more than trust me; I wanted to be friends. I knew it was a lost cause, considering one of us has to die, but I felt a connection with Finnick. There was some kind of glimmer in his eyes that made me want him to believe in me. I hope he did.

He nodded at me, processing this information. A cheeky smiled appeared on his face. "Good day, Caldera. I'll see you soon."

He tipped his trident towards me, like a hat, then turned on his heel and left.

Finnick Odair.

That name will be remembered someday. I just knew it.


End file.
